raised her eyes and waited for him to help her out. Tim did help her
out; half dragging and half lifting, he deposited her in a solid heap
upon the floor, then ran to the figure that now dominated the dim,
fire-lit room, and hugged it with all his force, making sounds in his
throat like an excited animal: "Ugh! ugh! ugh!...!"

The hug was returned with equal vigour, but without the curious
sounds; Maria was hugged as well and set upon her feet; while Judy,
having already been sufficiently hugged, pushed the arm-chair closer
up to the fire and waited patiently for the proper business of the
evening to begin.

The figure, meanwhile, disentangled itself. It was tall and thin, with
a mild, resigned expression upon a kindly face that years and care had
lined before its time: old-fashioned rather, with soft, grey whiskers
belonging to an earlier day. A black tail-coat adorned it, and the
neck-tie was crooked in the turned-down collar. The watch-chain went
from the waist-coat button to one pocket only, instead of right
across, and one finger wore a heavy signet-ring that bore the family
crest. It was obviously the figure of an overworked official in the
Civil Service who had returned from its daily routine in London to the
evening routine of its family in the country, the atmosphere of
Government and the Underground still hanging round it. For sundry
whiffs of the mysterious city reached the children's nostrils,
bringing thrills of some strange, remote reality they had never known
at first-hand. They busied themselves at once. While Tim unbuttoned
the severe black coat and pulled it off, Judy brought a jacket of
dingy tweed from behind a curtain in the corner, and stood on a chair
to help the figure put it on. All knew their duties; the performance
went like clockwork. And Maria sat and watched in helpful silence.